


Painful Use of Powers- Prompt Fill

by captaincravatthecapricious



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic, Post canon, accidental use of powers, baby shark mention, nausea and vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincravatthecapricious/pseuds/captaincravatthecapricious
Summary: Tim and Jon are having a friendly discussion that is rather rudely interrupted when Jon accidentally Beholds something.  They powers of the eye have faded after the world is back to normal, and it makes Jon very ill.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/ Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/ Tim Stoker/ Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 27
Kudos: 149





	Painful Use of Powers- Prompt Fill

**Author's Note:**

> Cw panic (not detailed), vomiting (he vomits static so like.... not anything gross just weird), food mention, baby shark

“It’s… been pretty strange.About half the people I talk to remember everything about… well, you know.And the other half don’t seem to remember anything at all.Just remember before… and then remember after.I have to wonder if it’s a trauma response thing or ….some weird eldritch thing.But… not actually that curious, if you know what I mean?”Tim is sitting on the couch next to Jon.Once upon a time, they maybe would have been flush with each other.But it had been a long time since they were that comfortable together.Jon hopes that one day he will feel safe enough to lean on Tim again. 

Jon half swallows a partial laugh.Not a particularly humorous one, just a huff of air, really.“I’m curious… of course I am.I just… try to avoid thinking about it.Curiosity is a little dangerous for me…Which is irritating because being a teacher is about Learning as well as teaching.And apparently it is down to me to try to revive these children from the fatigue of rote memorization without an independent will to learn!” 

“Ha! _You_ inspiring people to learn!Are you sure you don’t just give them that glare of yours and tell them when the homework is due after babbling to them for an hour about whatever.Bet they don’t get a question in edgewise!”

Jon gives Tim that very glare.And Tim laughs properly.Which fills Jon’s chest with hope.He shouldn’t hang on the every positive response he gets from Tim… but he does. 

“Actually I read something funny the other day!I was on twitter and I found a threat that had a theory that one of those stupid kids songs brought about the Eyepocolypse!One of those ones that you sing over and over again until every adult that ever met you just wants to clobber you…. I think it was the baby shark one…Whatever the fuck that is.”

Static fills Jon’s mouth.Buzzing through the air.And he Knows the song.The words.The many many many versions. 

B̠̼̙͙̘͚̺̓̋̿͑̓͘͟͞ả̶͎̜̙̩̖̋̈́̆̂̚ͅḇ͕͓̘͖̦̫̥͂̊͂̀͂̇̇̂̚͜͢y̟̬̳̱̦̘͖̗͑͑͛̀̚͝͞͞ s̘̠̪̠͎̻̯̰̏͂̒̍̒̏͞ͅẖ̴̢͕̙͕̟̤̯͆̊͂͐̆͜ą̛̙̞͇̹̪̖͕͈͆̽͗̇͋̍͘͘͜r̡̛͍̹̳͉͕̱̝͔̾̒͛͊͐̾̿̕͠ͅķ̯̼̀̉͒͆̌̈͜͢͡ d̷̪͙͓͔̞̗͂̋̀͆͆̕͜͞ơ̵̲̩̦͐͋̊̔̉̑͢͢͠ͅ d̜̳̜̺̣͓̟̿̽̔̽̑͜ͅo̸̙͈͇̠̣͐̿̾̂̏̇̚̚ͅ d̸͍̞̹̫̤̀̑͒́̒͊̔ǫ͚̮̳͇̤̰̦̖̀̋̋͂͌̋͑͢͡ d̲̜̹̤̘̝͖͗̀͑̆̽͢ǫ̴̛̤̤̗̝̯͒͆̂̿̀̐͝ͅ ḍ̶͈͇͖͔̫̯̥̄̃͋̄͌̀̇̑͛͋͟ö̢̖̥̯̹͙̱̓̀͋͗͟͡ d͔̬͚̤̩̯͛̽̏̈͘o̪̼̬̯̮̼͌̈̎̐́̕ b̷̢͙̮̱̹͓̎͑͂̊̋̋͛̊͋̇a̗̩͍̩̲̾̇̄͐̾b̮͇̖̣̭̫͎̂̽̅̾́̄͠ỷ̷͚̘͕̫̲̩̠̮̬͒͆̾̃̅͑̓̄ s̲̳̖̼̩̙̓̿͆̉͛̃͒͝͠͡h̴̡̺̯̮̼̙̜̋̓̋͐̿͢ͅa̴̳̩̲͓̱̞͊͊̓̑̄͢ͅṟ̷̨̛̬͎͕̮̖̣̜̎̌̂̎͢k̟͍̱͍͛̅̉̏̑͑͌͡ͅ d̸̥͓̻̗̩̮͖̓͛̀͒̈̉̀̕͞o̹̭͓͎̤̝͆͂͆̈́͗d̵̙͕̼̖͔̬͚͕̞͂͑̒̀͢͞͝͞o͖͕͉̘̠̹͑̂̂̽̌̋͜ḑ̢̟̙̝͋̈̾͌̆͐͋͂̓̌͜ơ̛͖͎͖̱̳̘̓̽̒̔͌͐̔͒͢ḑ̵͍̱͙̘̙̇́̃͡͞o̴̧͓̼͔̜̣̲̻̔́̓͒͗͂́͜ͅd̨͓͈͎͚͕̳̝̩̿͋̂̔́̔̈̇̓͜ȍ̷͕͙̝͎̙̼̣̃̍̏͘̕͟͞d̴̩̩͖̙̘͕͓̼̯̊̿́̾͋̄͘̚͞ŏ̞̤͉̱̝̯̔̄̅͊̑͟ w̴̰̥̱̲̦̤̘̠̑̅̉̓̀͢ę̶̛̬̗̗͓͍̟̏̀̓͗͑͢ṇ̙̟̳̅͑̾͆̈́̀͋͢͞t̵̠̯̫̙̘̺̳͋̋̍͒͂̍̌̐̋ f̸̻̭̫͚̮͐̑̉̄̍̓̂͝ȯ̢̨͔͍̥̲̌̅̋̂͋r̢͔̥͈͎̭͔̼̹̀̿̀̂̊̈́̊͜͠ ả̢̡̛͉̙͓͎̩̈̈̑̇̒͢ͅ ş̺̦͍̣̬͔̭̲̅̓͑̿͗̍ͅw̺̺͉͙̩͚̻̣̜̪̿̍̽͒̎̀̚͝í̢̺̥̩͖̹̣͖͚̈́̿̐̏͜m̶̜̯̺͙̯͒̔̈́̍͞͡͠ d̶̢̨̡̛͓̖̥̱̩̹͊͒̔̽̈̎̽̚ò̤̤̪͎͔̺̽̍̋̅̆̔͠d̳͎̥̟̺̰̰̘̿̌̐́̄̌ơ͔̣̝̱̪̟̪̑̒̿̑͆̂̓̍̃d̢͎͖͖̭͓̭́̌̇̊̇̀͗͛ơ̴͖͓̤̝̘̯͓̐̊̓̾̕͜d̷̤̺̫̙̠̜̬̈̆͐̽̚͟ő͕͚͖̳͙̭̞̜̓̊͊͘͘d̴͈̲̰̬̘́̈́̓̚͠ȍ̶̠͙̜͖͉̱̥̄́͛͌̌̈͟d̳̜̮͓̀̓͒̈̌̅͌͢o̺͕̙̺͔̫̍̾̾̍͊

.

The knowledge floods his senses.Too many words.Too many songs.And he can’t stop it until he has experiences every annoying children’s song and rhyme and poem at once and he can’t take any of it in and he can’t thinkcantthinkcantthinkcantthinktoomanywordstoomanytoomany

sharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharksharkDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDoDo

The static crackles in the air, and Jon’s vision goes dark. 

Jon wakes up and throws up.Or would, if his insides hadn’t turned to static.As it stands, static floods his mouth and echos around the bin that has been shoved hastily in front of his face. 

He thinks vaguely this must be an unpleasant experience for whoever is guiding him upright and holding back his hair. 

Even so, it is miserable for him. 

This is one of the least pleasant experiences of his life.Which is saying something. 

It hurts.It feels like he is being turned inside out and his head sawed in two. 

Once his body is done, his eyes are leaking static is well and he slumps further, head still in the bin, breathing hard.He groans, pitifully. 

He allows himself a minute.A minute to try to process the information overload that sent him into this state.To try to feel more real and less like a manifestation of buzzing energy. 

He can’t drag his eyes open.He doesn’t even want to try. 

Then he remembers Tim. 

Tim who is almost certainly the one rubbing his back. 

Tim who just witnessed Jon Behold something. 

Tim who thinks Jon has this under control. 

Jon is supposed to have this under control. 

But does he?Does he really?Because this Does happen.Not too often anymore, but it does.Jon can’t always. 

Sometimes a weak compulsion threads through his words.Sometimes he something slips through into his subconscious.And sometimes, the floodgates open like they just did, and Jon’s body is not equipped to deal with that now, if it ever even was.(Which it wasn’t.He remembers lying on his office floor… sick and shivering for hours before Basira found him at his desk, having finally found the strength to stand, plagued by a raging headache.) 

Tim wasn’t supposed to see that he is still like this… this… monstrousness that hasn’t gone away.It hasn’t.Just a bit weaker.Still out of control and he should have this under control by now!It’s been years! 

And he can’t think anymore because it hurts too much, and even the gentle hand on his back is too much like hitting.Like scratching.And he knows it is just oversensitive skin and he knows that touch is fine and grounding and good, but his brain can’t tell the difference anymore.Not after years of hurt have been visibly pressed into his skin.And not when merely existing is rending his head in two. 

He is breathing hard with a solid band of panic crushing his lungs.And he’s gagging around more static.And static is streaming down his face and he can’t let Tim see him like this.he can’t.He can’t!He doesn’t want to lose Tim again.He can’t do it again!Not when things are so close to good that it hurts. 

He tries to get up.To hide, but it sends him retching again. 

Tim is alarmed.Not about Jon’s use of powers.He’s… something close to okay with that.Well… not Okay okay with it.But it’s still… just Jon.It doesn’t happen often.And Martin warned him Long before allowing them near one another, the second conversation they had after Tim ran into him in the grocery store and had to go through the awkward business of ‘yes I’m alive, sorry I didn’t say anything, also here’s Sasha who you thought was dead.What do you mean you almost got yourself killed because you were left with nothing to live for?’That had been…. a conversation to remember. 

In any case, Tim knows that Jon isn’t entirely human.Mostly human, at this point.But… not entirely.Sometimes things like this happen, although Martin hadn’t said anything about….. all the static.Something about ink?Something about some minor compulsion.And that Jon is… not cagey about it… but skittish.That he still expects to be punished for this thing that he clearly can’t entirely control.He knows that Jon occasionally Knows things on purpose and gives himself migraines.Much to Martin’s worry.But accidentally Beholding… well it looks worse than a migraine to Tim.This looks painful, and like it’s quickly devolving into a panic attack. 

Which… Tim has a sinking feeling is because he is there.This would be…. the third one he’s caused.At least that he knows of. 

There was the time that Jon was under the weather and compelled him by mistake.There was the time when he’d finally gotten comfortable around Jon again and had started joking and something in the tone of his voice or the volume had sent Jon into a messy spiral.And now this.He’s been so careful.He wants his friend back.And they were finally getting somewhere with easy visits without Martin moderating.Finally. 

And now Jon is sick and hurting andafraid and Tim is probably just making it worse. 

Jon flinches away from his hands with a whimper, and his theory is strengthened. 

He stops.Timothy Stoker takes consent very seriously.“Do you want me to let you go?Can you sit on your own?” 

Jon whines again, forehead resting on the edge of the bin.Dreadfully pale and face crackling with a static that Tim guesses to be sweat or tears… possibly both. 

He would absolutely let go of Jon if he was sure he could safely do so, but… Jon looks as if he might just topple over as it is.Best not to disturb him too much.And if he looks uncomfortable with the arrangement, then Tim will try to fix it.However he can. 

Until then, he ought to call Martin.But he can’t get up without dislodging an unsteady Jon.And Jon doesn’t look up for sitting in on a conversation. 

He sends a text instead. 

_There’s been an incident.We’re okay, but if you could come back here soon… Please come back soon._

Jon cries.And so does Tim.Softly.Briefly.So many steps they have taken together, and there is still a journey before them. 

Martin’s home.Jon would cry with relief if he wasn’t already crying.Finally real tears instead of trails of static.Every time he’s tried to move has made him sick.He eventually gives up and leans against Tim.Shivering slightly.He wishes he could get some painkillers, but…. he can’t even sit up.Not even far enough to let Tim get up. 

He did find it in himself to weakly sign for Tim to wrap an arm around him. 

It’s grounding.And solid.And warm.And real. 

But now Martin is here.Speaking in low tones to Tim.Hands on his face.Jon leaning into Martin’s warmth.Martin wiping his damp face with a warm flannel. 

“Hey, sweetheart.Jon, what happened?”Martin.

Jon doesn’t want to open his mouth.Insides still unhappy static.He signs, “Baby Shark.”

Tim chokes on a laugh. 

It jostles Jon, which causes him to groan.But… but.A laugh is good.It isn’t derisive.It’s… just warm.And very Tim, as he once was when they were together.As he is, now. 

Tim stays for dinner.It’s takeout.And while Jon is still queasy, he manages a little bit of soup before falling asleep.Still leaning on Tim, Martin cradling his legs. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you can't reed the glitched text, really don't worry about it, it is just some Baby Shark lyrics. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please drop me some kudos and a comment! This prompt is from the bingo on my tumblr, feel free to send a prompt, a character, and let me know if you want a drawing or a fic! I am captaincravatthecapricious there as well! Have a lovely day!


End file.
